


Wandering Association

by ItsTeatimeSomewhere



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Carnival, Fluff, Homophobia, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-05
Updated: 2015-03-05
Packaged: 2018-03-16 12:21:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3488126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ItsTeatimeSomewhere/pseuds/ItsTeatimeSomewhere
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis isn't fooled by the psychic's abilities. He knows a scam when he sees one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wandering Association

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tomlinsublime](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tomlinsublime/gifts).



> This was such a fun prompt to write! Thanks so my incredible betas Sarah [lovinglpayne](lovinglpayne.tumblr.com) and Gayle [veelalouis](veelalouis.tumblr.com)! You guys were so amazing, especially with the time crunch!!!! The title and lyrics at the beginning are from "Animal Life" by Shearwater, which was kind of my inspiration for this piece. Enjoy!

_I held your name inside my mouth_   
_Through all the days out wandering_

If you had asked Louis three months ago what his summer would entail, he would have never even thought to consider cleaning cotton candy out of his hair a possible scenario. As luck would have it, though, Louis thinks he has set a world record for the amount of children shoving various carnival food into his hair. At least he wasn’t Liam, whose job requires copious amounts of elephant poop and spontaneous showers thanks to the resident animals. Liam never got mad at them of course, because he was Liam. Feces flung at him from Betty and Arnold the monkeys, chewed-up grass was spat his way by Tiny the giraffe, and even the nose-sprays from Velma and Daphne the elephants weren’t enough to phase him. Louis was amazed, honestly.

If anything, Niall has the best job of their friend group: tickets. According to other carnival workers, ticket positions are highly coveted as the ticket booth was air conditioned and most people bought day passes online now. Niall simply enjoys a comfy seat and $9 per hour for the entire summer, occasionally giving out tickets (and phone numbers) to pretty girls and boys who walked by.

Louis isn't complaining. They would all be returning to college in the fall, and it was nice to earn some money and be surrounded by unhealthy food and thrill rides all day. The carnival, “Crikey’s Carnival,” travels to random towns across the United States to give the children a taste of the extraordinary. That basically meant that they could avoid most safety and food regulations as well as a few working condition requirements. When staying in some towns, they hired students to take on odd jobs that didn’t require the pizzazz and showmanship of the more difficult acts.

Louis hasn’t met many other carnival workers, mostly because he’s stuck inside his booth all day aside from a short break. According to the patrons, though, there are two truly incredible sights: the high-wire act and the fortune teller.

The high-wire act, they say, is a spectacle. Four girls called the Wings dance and tumble through the air, tossing flaming batons and flipping in front of fireworks. Below them is another show entirely. Louis has heard raving reviews from mothers and daughters (and a few sons) about the smoking-hot lion-tamer who twirled around death with a smoldering look in his eye (their words, not Louis’). Upbeat music, a fireworks finale, and sexy people in very little clothing makes it the most popular act in the carnival.

The fortune teller is less showy, but apparently more “realistic.” His tent is bohemian in nature, with scarves and crystals dripping around it. Passing by a few times, Louis just sees a tacky tent, but apparently it adds to the “air of mystery” that surrounded this guy. He calls himself “Iris Divindi” and Louis is positive that’s not his real name. Who would knowingly name their kid Iris?

Regardless of Louis’ personal views, Divindi’s tent is a raving success. While picking up scraps of balloons from the floor of the booth one afternoon, he overhears two teenagers talking as they attempt to win the biggest stuffed bear at Louis’ booth.

“He was so dreamy!” the first girl cries, leaning on her friend’s shoulder. “The way he just looked at me and knew my entire life! It was incredible!”

“I know,” her friend gushes, aiming a dart at one of the balloons on the wall. “His eyes, they were like crystal balls! And when he read your palm? I had chills.”

Neither of them wins anything, of course, but they do spark Louis’ curiosity in this boy. The entire production is a scam, but this boy must have some charisma, if he’s able to charm someone that much, right?

He brings it up with Niall and Liam as they’re getting dinner after work that evening.

“Have you guys heard about that psychic guy? Iris something-or-other?” Louis asks around bites of his burger.

Niall’s eyes light up. “Oh, he’s amazing! God, I went to go see him on my break the other day--”

“--you get breaks?” Liam squawked.

“--and he’s amazing! Like, he knew about Ireland and all, but then he got all freaky and asked if there was a girl in my life? ‘Nd I was like, yeah, and he told me to stop lazing around and get her! Like he knew Barbara or somethin’!” He sighs, twirling a fry between his finger. “I asked her out, and she said yes!”

“What?” Louis exclaims, nearly dropping his burger. “You asked Barbara out? The girl you’ve been pining after for nearly two years?”

Niall nods, “We’re going out on Friday!”

Louis is in awe. Niall was always a bumbling fool around her. What was so amazing about this guy?

Liam smiles. “Congrats, Niall! Maybe I should go see him… Do you think he could help me figure out what to major in?” Liam’s face scrunches up, like when he’s deep in thought.

“Do you honestly believe that shit?” Louis scoffs, “He’s a con artist, just like everyone else at this carnival.”

“Don’t be so pessimistic, Louis,” Liam says with a frown.

“I’m not pessimistic, Liam, I just know when I’m being duped.”

Liam grimaces but doesn’t respond, and they drop the subject. Even later, though, when Louis is lying awake in his bed, he can’t help but wonder what it is about that boy that has everyone hooked. Why are they so set in his so-called magical abilities?

**xx**

He decides to check it out the next day during his break. The girl who replaces him, Eleanor, grins when he tells her his destination.

“Ooh, you’re going to love Iris!” She grins, collecting a few tickets from some kids. “He’s amazing!”

Louis rolls his eyes and leaves, amazed at the impact of this boy. The line outside Iris Divindi’s tent is massive. As in, Louis doesn’t know if he has enough time in his break to get in. With nothing better to do, though, he grabs himself a milkshake and settles in for a wait under the beating sun.

As the line slowly moves further, he watches people exit the tent with wide grins, holding hands with their spouses or kids, even some with tear tracks running down their faces. Louis scoffs. He can’t believe he’s wasting an entire break (not like he has anything better to do) waiting in line for some scam artist.

When he gets close enough in line to step inside the tent, the smell of incense hits his face and his eyes have to adjust to the candlelight flickering against the tent walls. Spices mingle, and Louis doesn’t know how long he can handle the cloying scent.

The two girls in front of him exit, sniffling and holding hands, and Louis is up next. He hands over the tickets (donated kindly by Niall) and enters the room to see Iris.

Expecting a serious and devilish man, he’s surprised to see a dreamy-looking boy sitting on the floor on a pile of pillows. Curly, brown hair flies loose around his head, with at least two scarves wrapped around his head in an attempt to control the feathery wisps. His tunic-shirt is loose and detailed, and he looks absolutely serene, and--if Louis is being completely honest--extremely attractive.

“Welcome, kind stranger,” he begins, voice deep and mellow. “Please, take a seat and relax so we may begin our journey.”

With a scoff, Louis lowers himself onto the pillow across from Iris, who immediately looks up. Louis is struck with piercing green eyes and a raised eyebrow.

“I sense you are a non-believer?” he questions.

“It doesn’t take a psychic to figure that out, buddy,” Louis says with snark, folding his arms across his chest.

“Well, stranger, I often see images that are unclear to me, and they may mean more to you than me. I will need your cooperation if we are to discern anything from the visions. Will you participate?” He reaches out his hand, and Louis is already tired of this scam.

“Fine, I guess,” he mutters. If he’s going to see what all the fuss is about, he’ll have to comply with the nutter.

“Wonderful!” Iris claps, a flash of cheerfulness breaking his calm exterior. “We will begin with an attempt to calm you, so that we may better understand your subconscious and reach a connection with the spiritual world. Please, give me your hands and let us breath in tandem.”

Louis rolls his eyes, but puts out his hands and lets them rest on top of Iris’ larger ones. He takes a deep breath, lungs filling with incense smoke, and exhales with Iris, attempting to calm down enough to take this at least a little seriously.

Iris gives a small smile as Louis begins to relax, listening to their breathing mingle with the muted sounds of the carnival outside. For a wacko in a tent, it’s actually rather peaceful.

“I see a friend… someone dissatisfied with their life… looking for something more…” Iris begins, eyes closed and serene. “Does this sound familiar?”

“That’s the vaguest description ever,” Louis grumbles. “It could describe half the population.”

“Then let me see if I can focus on some characteristics. Please, close your eyes and breathe.”

They wait in silence for a minute, and Louis is getting agitated. Maybe this isn’t worth it, even for the peace and quiet from the carnival madness.

“This friend… he is often positive and cheerful, but can become reserved and withdrawn when he feels uncomfortable in a situation, yes?”

“That’s a contradicting statement, and also super vague.” Louis opens his eyes. “Do people honestly buy this stuff?”

Iris’ eyes flash open and are suddenly filled with heat. “Y’know, there’s a long line of people out there who are actually interested in psychic readings. If you are going to waste my time and continue to block me whenever I try to reach you, I don’t know how much farther we’re going to get.”

“Ooh, Magic Man’s got a temper?” Louis teases as Iris yanks his hands back.

“My name is Iris, doofus--”

“No it’s not. And doofus? Honestly? Is that the best insult you could come up with?”

“Why are you being so nasty? What did I ever do to you?”

“You’re scamming all of these people into believing your psychic bullcrap, when you’re no different from any of us! Psychics don’t exist, and you’re profiting off of idiotic beliefs of rural Americans.”

Iris stands up, albeit a bit unsteadily. “I think you should go now, thank you.” His voice is carefully controlled, yet there’s an edge to it that Louis doesn’t want to question. It’s not his fight. Honestly, the entire thing has been a waste.

“Well, this has been thoroughly entertaining,” Louis says sarcastically, “I’m so much more secure in my future.” With that, he turns and leaves, ignoring the grumbling behind him.

**xx**

No, Louis does not feel bad about his run-in with Iris. Eleanor asks him about the reading when he gets back from his break, but he just mumbles something about it being a bad day for Iris. When Eleanor leaves, though, Louis can’t stop thinking about the boy and his eyes and his voice.

Also, maybe he does feel a little bad. Yes, the boy was a scam artist, unapologetically taking people’s money in exchange for vague and unrefined statements that may or may not refer to them, but maybe that wasn’t the whole story.

During his break the next day, he returns to the tent, waiting in line for even more time than the day before and handing over the tickets as usual. When he walks into the tent, Iris is sitting on the pillows with his eyes closed.

“Welcome, kind stranger,” he begins, opening his eyes slowly. “Please, take a seat and--” A look of shock and anger replaces his serenity. “What the fuck are you doing here again?”

Louis sighs and sits down. “Yeah, I guess I deserve that,” he mutters, looking at his hands. “Look, I’m sorry about what I said yesterday. Yeah, I’m not a fan of what you do here, but that didn’t give me the right to say what I did. So, I guess, yeah. I’m sorry.”

Iris’ mouth forms a tight line, and his hands are balled at his hips. “Well, I appreciate the apology, but I’m not really sure I want to see you here.”

“Understandable, I don’t really want to be here,” Louis retorts, surprised at Iris’ unhelpful attitude.

“You’re quite bad at apologizing, aren’t you?” Iris says with a grin.

“Well my apologies are better than your attempts at mind reading.”

“I don’t read minds, I understand the energy of the subconscious.”

“Oh, is that what you’re calling it?”

“Did you come back to make fun of me again?”

Louis sighs. Really, he’s doing a bang-up job of making this better. “No, I’m sorry. Really. I just… I don’t get it? Why do you do this? Also, your name isn’t really Iris, is it?”

Iris blushes, and his face opens up a bit. “Nah, m’name’s Harry. But Iris Divindi just sounds so fancy and mystical. My sister came up with it.”

Louis giggles. “Really? You put your sister in charge of your career?”

“Well, she was the one who came up with this idea in the first place. I mean, she works here too, yeah? Runs the place, general manager and all that.” Iris--no, Harry--smiles at Louis.

“Oh, well why are you guys here?”

Harry’s lips get tight again, and his face shutters close. “A little personal for a first date, don’t you think?”

This time, it’s Louis’ turn to blush. “Uh, no… I mean, this isn’t a date, er, what?”

“I’m just kidding. I don’t even know your name.”

Quickly, as if to dissipate the tension, Louis thrusts his hand forward. “Louis. Louis Tomlinson. Nice to, er, meet you.”

Harry shakes his hand. “I’d say the same, but both times we’ve met you’ve insulted me. I don’t know how this will work.”

Louis laughs, seeing that Harry is obviously joking.

“Um,” Harry begins, glancing at the door to the tent. “I’ve got to meet with customers, but if you wanted to come back, that would be nice? I mean, you don’t have to, of course, it’s up to you, I just, um, I dunno, I’d like to get to know you a bit, yeah?”

“Sure,” Louis says, standing up. “I’ll, um, see you tomorrow? Maybe? If you want too, that is.”

Harry smiles and it’s not some mysterious or all-knowing smile. It’s cheerful and open and bright, and Louis wants to see more of it.

“Bye, Iris,” Louis says jokingly. He leaves the tent, back into the harsh sunlight. A boy in line asks what took him so long, and another girl remarks about Iris getting attached to certain auras.

“Sometimes he sees so deeply that information just comes pouring out! It happened to a friend of mine; she was in there for, like, twenty minutes!”

Louis chuckles. If that wasn’t the silliest sentence he’d ever heard. Harry really had them hooked.

He returns to his booth with a smile, questions still swirling about Harry’s story. But, seeing as he barely knew the guy, Louis supposes that’s warranted. For the rest of the day, he focuses on the game and refuses to think about the not-so-mysterious psychic.

Later that day, as Louis locks up the stand, Niall and Liam come running over to him.

“Lou!” Niall shouts, “I heard you’re into the whole psychic thing, eh? El said you’ve been to see Iris Divindi, like, twice!”

Liam quirks his head, walking up to the two. “Really, Louis? I thought you didn’t believe in him?”

“Well, I said a few choice words the other day and I wanted to, y’know, make things right. He’s not that bad, even if he’s a bit delusional,” Louis grumbles. Yes, Harry was a bit out there, but he was...y’know...interesting. It had nothing to do with his looks or his laugh or the way his lips turned up at the corners when Louis was snarky. Not at all.

Niall’s eyes go wide as his mouth turns into a grin. “Shit, you have a crush on him! You totally have a crush on a psychic!”

“He’s not a real psychic, Niall--”

“No! Don’t ruin this! Oh my gosh and I bet he knows it, what with his abilities! Shit, mate, a relationship with no secrets. That’s some Twilight-level stuff!”

“Niall, calm down,” Liam reprimands.

“Thank you--”

“--obviously Iris is waiting to make the first move.”

“Liam, you’re taking his side?” Louis is shocked.

Both Niall and Liam laugh, dragging him away from the booth.

“We’re going out for drinks with Liam’s new beau!”

“What the fuck? Liam?” Louis turns to Liam who just blushes, looking at the matted grass.

“Yeah, I mean, I dunno. We were talking, and he mentioned not knowing many people, so I invited him to Albert’s for drinks tonight. As friends, not, like, anything else.”

“Well? Who is it?” Louis demands as they get into Liam’s beat-up Acura.

“Zayn, the lion guy! Sexy as hell, brooding stare, y’know him?” Niall bursts out, grinning like a loon. “And think, if Zayn and Liam get together and you and Iris, we’ll be one big happy carnival family!”

Niall continues to spout nonsense about the wedding themes as they drive to Albert’s, the only bar in town.

For a medium-sized town, Louis is constantly surprised that there is only one bar. Of course, part of it might be the incredibly conservative atmosphere, but it definitely makes for an interesting turnout at night. Bikers on their way through town mix with single parents and teenagers, everyone crowding into the dark room with music on low and drinks flowing. Louis, Niall and Liam have been coming to Albert’s since they were teens, and it was the ultimate local hangout. Truthfully, Louis was surprised Liam wanted to take someone as interesting as a lion tamer to the crappy bar in the middle of town.

When they reach the bar, Liam quickly secures a couch near the back of the room. It’s a bit quieter, and a little less raucous, even though the room is small. Niall and Louis head to the bar, ordering pints for the three of them. Louis spots two of his friends from school as well as a few of his parents’ friends on their way back, making the trip sufficiently awkward, as it always is at Albert’s.

They sit and drink for a bit, chatting aimlessly about the day and the carnival. Niall tells a few stories of random customers, and Liam laughs about Daphne very nearly pooping on his head, a story which Niall finds endlessly entertaining, of course. When they’re all sufficiently relaxed, Zayn shows up with someone else in tow.

“Hey, guys,” he begins, voice soft and raspy. “‘M Zayn.” He smiles and Liam stands up to greet him. Niall and Louis wave as the person behind him steps forward.

“Hey, Louis,” Harry says, grinning.

“Shit! Iris!” Niall shouts, jumping up. “Z, I didn’t know you were friends with Louis’ boy.”

“Louis’ boy?” Zayn asks questioningly, tilting his head and looking at Louis.

“No, no, you’ve got it wrong,” Louis interjects. “Harry-er-Iris and I just met the other day, and Niall’s making it into something more. Sorry.” He gives a little laugh, awkwardly making eye contact with Harry.

“It’s all good,” Harry says, his voice relaxed. “And please, call me Harry. Iris is just a stage name.” He turns to Niall and smiles. “Pleasure to meet you. And you, Liam, Zayn’s told me a lot about you.”

Liam blushes and leans into Zayn’s side. “I didn’t know you two were close,” he says, moving to sit with Zayn.

“Yeah, friends for… well, for some time now. We joined Crikey’s at around the same time.” Harry takes a seat closer to Louis. Closer than Louis would like, so he immediately jumps up.

“Uh, anyone want more drinks? I’ll go get ’em. Zayn? Harry?”

Smiling, Zayn asks for a whiskey, and Niall yells for shots all around. Louis turns to Harry, who stands.

“My order’s a bit tricky. I might as well come with you, yeah?”

“Um, sure, I guess. I mean, can’t stop you, or anything,” Louis says. He doesn’t know why he’s being so unwelcoming to Harry. Normally, a cute boy with such a cheerful attitude would be in his bed by now, but the whole fake-psychic thing must be throwing him off.

They reach the bar in silence, waiting for a few minutes for an open bartender. Louis rattles off the orders of Zayn, Niall and himself, and turns to Harry.

“Don’t judge,” the boy whispers, looking down. He then makes eye contact with the bartender, saying: “a Cosmo with fresh lime juice, Cointreau, vodka added last, and no orange zest.”

The bartender rolls her eyes, but begins to make the drink.

“A Cosmo? Really? That’s like… the frilliest of frilly drinks!”

“I don’t like the taste of alcohol,” Harry explains, a blush sitting high on his cheeks. “The first time I had one, it was at this fancy gala in New York, and I’ve never been able to have them any other way.”

“That’s the most pretentious thing I’ve ever heard,” Louis deadpans.

“Oh, and does tequila taste good to you?”

“Of course not. It’s like piss on fire. But at least it’s a real drink.” He grins as Harry gasps.

“I resent that!”

“You resemble that, babe.” The term of endearment slips out before Louis can catch himself. Luckily, Harry doesn’t comment, simply smiling a bit wider, any residual awkwardness slipping away.

When the drinks are finished, he teases Harry about the tiny sips he takes and the two hands he uses to hold the glass as they walk back to the others, Louis balancing shots and beers on a tray.

“Come one, come all!” He cries, placing the tray in front of Liam and Zayn. Niall crows and reaches for the first shot, downing it in seconds.

“Don’t leave me hangin’, guys, drink up!” He chides, poking Liam in the back. “Even you, lima bean.”

Liam blushes at the nickname as Zayn giggles into his shoulder, and Louis is shocked at how well they fit. He quickly downs his own shot, grimacing at the flavor. Maybe Harry was on to something with his fruity drinks.

“Harry, what the fuck are you drinking?” Niall asks, breaking Louis out of his Harry-induced trance. He makes eye contact with Harry, and the two start laughing before Niall hears the story of Harry’s fancy event.

Another round of shots follows soon after, and Louis finds himself relaxed and tipsy, with a much drunker Harry by his side. Apparently, after the first Cosmo, Harry was much more open to the idea of shots, and downed three nearly right after another.

The two are curled up on one couch, Louis chatting with Niall as Harry poked his chin and giggles, randomly shouting out words like “ganbarimasu” and “elephant” before laughing raucously as if he’s a comedic genius.

Soon, though, he becomes a melancholy drunk, fiddling with his fingers and slumping against Louis.

“Y’don’t like me too much,” he mutters into Louis’ ear, breath soaked in alcohol. “It’s understamp…. udderstan…. understandable.”

“Harry,” Louis whispers, turning his head. His heart sinks as he sees the sadness in Harry’s watery eyes. “I don’t hate you.”

“No, you should!” He slurs, pulling back abruptly. “You need too.”

Zayn looks up, narrowing his eyes at Louis. “Man, is everything okay?” For someone who downed just as many shots as Liam, he’s surprisingly collected. Liam, on the other hand, has sunk into the couch and is twirling his fingers in Zayn’s shirt, yanking it up every few minutes, much to Niall’s delight.

“He’s pretty beat up about something,” Louis begins, and Zayn stands up.

“Oh, shit. He becomes a maudlin drunk pretty fast. I’d better take him home so he can sleep it off.” He smiles at Louis. “Thanks for putting up with him, though. I know you two didn’t get on before. He came to me in tears about the cute guy who hated him.” Zayn winks as he pulls Harry to his feet.

Louis is shocked. “Really?”

Zayn nods, ignoring Liam’s pouting. “Yeah, so I’m glad you got on. It’s nice to see him open up to someone for once.” He waves to Niall and Liam. “Night, guys.”

Louis is quiet once the conversation picks up around them again, thinking over the words Harry had whispered. Coupled with his mysterious attitude about his past, Louis is determined to learn more about where this psychic came from.

**xx**

The next day, Louis’ booth is swamped. When Eleanor shows up, he praises whatever deity may exist that he can finally escape. However, it also means that the line to get into Harry’s event is just as busy. He waits nearly his entire break under the hot sun, finally entering with only ten minutes left to spare.

“Welcome kind stranger,” Harry begins, stopping as soon as he looks up at Louis. “Oh, Louis. Um, hi.” His face grows beet red and he stumbles to stand up. “I meant to come and see you, but I’ve been so busy. Uh, I wanted to apologize, I guess. I mean, about last night, yeah? I get weird when I’m drunk, and you had to, like, experience that, so I’m so sorry—“

“Harry,” Louis cuts in, “no need to apologize. I just, like, wanted to make sure you’re okay. You seemed pretty sad about something last night, and I just, y’know, needed to know you’re safe.” Louis rubs the back of his neck, pissed about how awkward this is turning out to be.

“Oh, shit. Yeah, sorry about that.” Harry looks just as uncomfortable.

“Um, Zayn said something about you calling me cute?” Louis teases, hoping to lighten the mood. Luckily, it makes Harry blush and smile.

“Yeah, he told you about that, huh?”

Louis gives a murmur of assent. “But, like, I like you now. You’re pretty nice, for a fraud.”

“I like you too. You’re pretty chill, for a cynic.” Harry bounces right into banter, but Louis senses a new level of comfort underneath the cheerful exterior.

Louis checks his watch, groaning at the time. “Shit, I’ve got to get back to the booth. But, we’ll talk, yeah?”

Harry nods, his eyes lighting up. “Definitely. Feel free to stop by any time! It’s nice… to not have to pretend.” His voice gets soft, but it’s a delicate soft instead of the frightened soft like last night. It’s hopeful.

They part, and Louis can’t think of anything except Harry’s eyes for the rest of the day.

**xx**

As summer rolls on, Louis finds himself at Harry’s more often than not. He and the psychic boy talk about the carnival exhibits, Liam and Zayn’s blossoming romance, or Louis’ life in general. One thing Louis notices, though, is that Harry never talks about himself. He never mentions getting started at the carnival, or his family; he only occasionally mentions his sister. Louis had yet to run into the girl, until a chance meeting.

Walking into work one morning, the sun already shining in the sky, Louis hears his name being called out.

“Louis! Hey, Louis!” He turns to see Zayn running towards him. As he gets closer, Louis sees that Zayn is barely breathing heavy at all, and still looks incredible. “Gemma wants to see you, something about a progress report? I dunno, she’s making all the staff update her now. Wants to be more involved or something.”

“Gemma?” Louis asks, confused.

“Yeah, the manager? She’s in Trailer A.” Zayn pats his shoulder and takes off towards the animals, leaving Louis to wonder why he was being called in. It’s been nearly a month working at the carnival, and he’d never needed to see a manager before this.

Stepping into the trailer, Louis first hears the whir of air conditioning, a sweet relief from the sun. He sees a woman sitting at a tiny desk, and moves to introduce himself.

“Hi, you must be Gemma?”

The woman looks up, and Louis is struck by the similarity between her and Harry. Same flashing eyes, open features, and big hair. Although instead of loose, brown curls, Gemma wears her soft purple hair in waves.

“Yes! Louis, thanks for stopping by.”

“You’re… you’re Harry’s sister, aren’t you?” Louis asks, sitting across from her.

Gemma nods. “Are you the elusive Louis he’s been going on about? Honestly, he won’t let me near you. Says he doesn’t want me to scare you off.” She laughs, and it’s a beautiful sound.

“He… he talks about me?” Louis asks, blushing.

“All the time! Of course, at first it was often negative, but now it’s all heart eyes and grins. It’s almost too mushy for me.”

Louis rubs the back of his neck, unwilling to show how much that meant to him. “Sadly, he’s been less forthcoming about you. I mean, I’ve barely heard anything about you except for your name?”

Harry and Gemma seemed to be similar in more ways than appearance, as Gemma’s face grows sad and empty. “Yeah, he’s still really beat up about some things. But, it’s not my place to tell what happened. That’s his story and you really should ask him.”

Louis nods. “And I will. I just hope he talks to me. Did you actually need anything about a progress report?”

“Yes, actually.” Gemma pulls out some papers, and begins some tirade about carnival upkeep and teamwork. Louis tries to pay attention, but his mind is wondering what Harry could be hiding that was so important. What kept such a wonderful and beautiful boy hidden away at a carnival forever?

**xx**

As July begins, Louis still hasn’t brought up his meeting with Gemma. He’d kept in touch with Harry, visiting him and watching as their conversations turned flirty, but Harry still kept him at arm’s length. Bringing it up with Niall and Liam didn’t help, as Niall’s advice was worthless and Liam was too caught up in Zayn to notice any other relationships.

One day, as the sky is covered in clouds with the smell of a storm in the air, Louis decides to be brave and just confront the issue. He says goodbye to Eleanor, as usual, and marches to Harry’s tent.

After a few weeks of awkwardly waiting in line and using up tickets, Harry had reworked his schedule to take a break that matches up with Louis’, giving them ample time to relax. Louis smiles at people as he walks, but is focused on what he’s going to say to Harry. How does one bring up a secret past?

When Harry sees him, his face lights up and he pats the space next to him. “Hey, Lou. I’ve got some funnel cakes, if you want. Niall said they’re your favorite, and you’re my favorite, so…” He blushes and pushes over a paper plate loaded with fried goodness and powdered sugar. Harry’s been saying sweet things like that for a few days now, and Louis is glad he can return the favor.

“Thanks, Haz,” he says, picking at the funnel cake. “Um, I actually wanted to ask you a question, if that’s okay?”

“Shoot.” Harry turns to Louis, his face open and trusting.

“What happened with your parents? Why don’t you ever talk about your past? Why are you working at the carnival?” Louis blurts out the three questions in fast succession, watching as Harry’s face falls.

“It’s not…um, I mean it’s not like terrible, or anything, um, not even that important. Do you really want to know?” Harry asks, fingers tugging at loose threads on the carpet.

“Well, yeah. I want to know everything about you.” Louis reaches over to pull Harry’s chin up, looking him in the eye. “I feel like we’re close enough that you should know that I wouldn’t judge you for anything.”

Harry nods and takes a deep breath. “Um, when I was younger, m’dad died. Like, it was all really sudden and I don’t remember much of him anyways, but then my mom got really sad and it was, like a bad time for her?” Harry sinks a little into the pile of pillows. “But… then she found Rick. And he was, nice, I guess, at first, but then he would get really loud and stuff whenever mom would disagree with him, and Gemma and I started to notice.

She would have us hide in her room when they fought, and sometimes we could hear glass breaking. Like, he never hit Mom, thank god, but it was still really scary, y’know? Especially for a kid who was, like, twelve at the time.”

Harry takes a deep breath, and Louis’ afraid to interject in case it would stop Harry from talking.

“Anyways, when I was around fifteen, I came out. Um, Richard didn’t like that very much. He… well he threw a book at my head and it left a scar.” Harry pushed the hair away from his forehead and Louis could see the faint outline of a book corner.

“He said some stuff about being a worthless fag, y’know the usual, and Gemma freaked out. Like, my mom just kinda watched and was really quiet, but Gemma started shouting and pulled me away from him. She took me upstairs and we packed our bags and left. So, that’s that.”

He takes a deep breath, sitting up a little straighter. “Um, the carnival happened to be coming through our town that week, so we just tagged along. I worked as like the apprentice, I guess, to the woman who originally worked as the psychic. Her name was Caroline, and she taught me all the tricks and stuff about reading people.” His voice gets low. “I’m not actually a psychic, sorry for lying.”

“Can I speak now?” Louis asks after a beat of silence. Harry nods, head held high as if wary of what Louis will say.

Louis is conflicted. Normally, he’s never one for emotional responses; that’s Liam’s expertise. He’s the kind of guy who will pat you on the back or get you drunk instead of hugs and tissues. But there’s something about Harry that tells him that’s not the way to go. This boy is too delicate, too pure to need something like that. He needs the loving, caring Louis who takes care of his younger sisters, not the raucous boy who gets drunk on weekdays.

“I am so, so sorry that that happened to you, babe. You don’t deserve any of that pain and sadness. I’m so glad you are strong enough to tell me, and I’m very glad I know, because it’s a part of who you are.”

Harry looks up, eyes sparkling. “Really? You think that?”

“What else would I say?”

“Well, sometimes people get mad at me for leaving my mom. But… I didn’t mean to! I just wanted to be safe.”

“I know, love, I know,” Louis murmurs, extending his arms. “I would never think that, though. You know that, right?”

“I think so, yeah,” Harry replies, smiling. He leans into Louis’s side and picks apart a piece of the cold funnel cake. “Y’know, these are kind of shit when they’re cold.”

Louis laughs, and the tension in the room dissipates. They sit in comfort for a few minutes, until his alarm rings, signifying the end of his break. He stands to leave when Harry pulls him down once more.

“Thanks for listening, and for, like not judging or anything,” Harry whispers, pressing a kiss to Louis’ cheek.

“Anytime,” Louis responds, just as quietly. As if the entire conversation was a secret, to be kept away from the outside world.

Stepping back out, even the cloudy skies can’t stop Louis’ smile. His cheek still feels warm from Harry’s lips, and Eleanor gives him a weird look and asks why he looks so loopy. He doesn’t tell her anything.

**xx**

His secret out in the open (which wasn’t even that much of a secret, as Louis constantly reminds Harry), the boy becomes much more at ease. They spend their time cuddling on the cozy pile of pillows in Harry’s tent and talking about childhood, or tossing popcorn and candy into each other’s mouths. Harry smiles constantly, even giving Louis kisses when he catches the tossed treat.

Much to his chagrin, Louis has yet to ask Harry on a date. Regardless of what the small kisses prove, or Gemma’s constant meddling, he can’t help but feel nervous about initiating any romantic contact. Maybe they’re just close friends. Maybe Harry has a boyfriend already.

Of course Gemma tells him it’s all bullshit. She continues to drag him in for “progress reports,” even though Louis is sure nothing has progressed since their last meeting. Instead, she demands answers to Louis’ background and Harry’s feelings, calling it “meeting the parents.”

“Harry and I aren’t even dating!” Louis constantly exclaims.

“And whose fault is that?” Gemma replies, a judging look on her face.

But… Louis just can’t find the right time. They’re always busy, or talking about something too serious, or just about to part.

Until one day, when Louis decides it’s the absolute perfect time. He grabs two wands of cotton candy (blue for him, pink for Harry), and proudly makes his way to Harry’s tent. He runs over his speech in his head, positive that it will make Harry swoon.

“Harry,” he announces, brushing the tent flap open, “I have an important question for you.”

Harry looks up, smiling. “Yeah, Lou?” His eyes go wide when he sees Louis’ hands. “Cotton candy? Thanks!”

He takes the pink wand, sticking his face into the sticky spun sugar. “Mmmm,” he groans, and Louis feels heat wash over his body. But that’s not the point. Focus.

“Okay. A question.” He takes a deep breath. “We’re really close, and I like you a lot. Would you… would you want to go on a date with me?” He smiles, waiting for Harry’s affirming answer. This is going to work. Gemma said so.

Instead of a smile, though, Harry’s face shuts down. “Oh, Lou… I can’t.”

“What do you mean you can’t? Of course you can! I mean, we both like each other, right?”

“Yeah, of course, Lou. But, I’m leaving in two weeks. We’re packing up and you’re going back to school. It… it wouldn’t work.” Harry looks down, twirling the cotton candy in his fingers.

Louis feels tears begin to form in the corner of his eyes. This was all going downhill. “Really? I mean… yeah, but we could still make the best of it, right?”

Harry just shakes his head. “I can’t, Lou. It’s not worth months of pain for a moment of happiness.”

Louis steps back, the cotton candy taste in his mouth turning acrid and sour. “You can’t be that cynical. I’m the cynical one in this relationship!”

“What relationship? That’s kind of the point, isn’t it?” Harry laughs humorlessly.

“I thought I knew you, Harry. Why...why are you being like this?”

“We’re only here for a month more, Louis. I can’t do that to you. It...it wouldn’t be enough.”

Louis crumbles. The strong self-preservation he once has disappeared and was replaced with begging. “Harry, of course it would be worth it. You’re worth it. Can’t we try to make something work? You can’t give up before it’s begun!”

“Don’t try to make this my fault, Lou,” Harry retorts, eyes lit up. “It’s just the way the world works, okay? Sometimes, things go wrong. Sometimes we fuck up. You have to accept it and move on. I thought a cynic like you might understand.”

“Well, you’ve changed how I see the world, okay? You make me hope for more than this! Why don’t you understand that this is possible?”

Harry presses the cotton candy back into Louis’ hand and turns away. “I’m sorry, Louis, I really am. I didn’t want to end this way, but I guess we have to. It was nice knowing you.”

With a nod at Louis, he walks towards the back of the tent where Louis knows he keeps his small changing room. Louis knows a dismissal when he sees one.

How unfitting, he thinks, as he walks out into the sunny day. Nature is mocking him.

He trundles back to the booth, ignoring Eleanor’s sly glances and teasing words. Obviously, there’s nothing to tease about anymore.

**xx**

The last two weeks of the carnival go by in a sad blur. He doesn’t visit Harry’s tent anymore, choosing instead to wander around the carnival during his break. Liam and Niall barrage him with questions, but he avoids them all, going so far as to stop going out with them after work. Whenever Gemma asks to see him, he doesn’t show up. It doesn’t seem worth it to have any contact with either sibling, especially when Harry was so eager to cut ties.

On the last day, Gemma comes running up to his stand as a small boy is attempting to throw his last dart.

“Sorry, kid,” she says sweetly, even though Louis sees ice in her eyes. “The booth is closed for a few minutes. Come back later.” She pulls the sliding panel shut, blocking off sunlight from the small room.

“Now,” she begins, whirling on Louis. “What did you do to my little brother?”

“What?” Louis asks, dumbfounded.

“What did you do to him? He’s been a wreck for the past few weeks, and I want to know how much I have to fuck you up.”

“I didn’t do anything,” Louis interjects. “I asked him out and he… he said no.”

“He said no? That doesn’t make sense,” Gemma’s eyebrows furrow in confusion.

“Well, he said you guys were leaving soon, and that it wouldn’t be worth it to start a relationship for such a short time.” Louis wrings his hands. “I mean, he was probably right. I wouldn’t want to hurt him more in the long run.”

“What the fuck? Idiot,” she mutters. “This was never supposed to be a permanent thing. Only until we found a place we liked. I mean, at least that’s what we decided at the beginning. We would travel and have adventures until we found a new home.” She looks up at Louis. “For him, I think this might be the place to stop.”

Louis feels something like happiness curling inside of him. “Really? He’d stop travelling?”

Gemma gives him a small half-smile. “I’m almost positive. I mean, your university is right around here, yeah?”

Louis nods. “Did you… did you go to college?”

Gemma shakes her head. “No, but I want to. Maybe we could stay here and get jobs, hopefully go to college soon. I want Harry to get a proper education, y’know? He deserves better than this vagabond life.” She pulls Louis into a hug. “But you have to promise me you won’t hurt him, yeah? I never want to see my baby brother sad again.”

“Of course.” Louis pulls out of the hug. “In fact, can I go ask him? Right now?” He turns to run without waiting for an answer.

“Look after the booth for me!” he calls over his shoulder.

Rushing towards the tent, he notices the line spilling out. Without hesitation, he cuts to the front, ignoring the shouts and angry gestures. The ticket taker at the door, a sweet young girl, smiles at him.

“Make it better, yeah? He’s been quite lonely without you.”

Louis nods, thanking her, and rushes inside. He doesn’t even let Harry begin his opening line before he blurts out: “I want you to stay.”

Harry jerks his head up, confused. “Louis? What are you doing here?”

Louis can’t help but notices the bags under his eyes, and the drooping set of his shoulders. “Stay. Here, in town. You and Gemma could get jobs near the university, and she could go to college, and maybe you could too, who knows? I mean, Liam and Niall and I will definitely help you out. You could even stay in my dorm. I mean, there might not be a lot of room, but we could make it work.”

“Louis… I… I can’t. I can’t just make Gemma get up and leave—“

“She suggested it.”

Louis watches as Harry’s mouth drops open, and he stands up. “But, we couldn’t impose on you like that. And I don’t think we have enough money to—“

“Harry. If it’s meant to be, it’ll work itself out, okay? For once, just take a chance. Stay here. With me.” He reaches out and waits for Harry to take his hand.

“Okay,” Harry says softly. “I’ll try. We’ll try.”

Louis smiles and walks forward, pressing a soft kiss to Harry’s lips. “That’s all I wanted to hear.”

 


End file.
